


Unshackled

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Altar Sex, Bottom Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Jack baby is confused, M/M, Michael is a Little Shit, Past Lucifer/Sam Winchester, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Season/Series 13 Finale, Rough Sex, Shame, Top Dean, forbidden feelings, hopeless sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 05:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: What is the best way to torture someone? The best way to break them into pieces, shatter their will to fight, their will to resist the Archangel residing inside them?According to Michael, rape.





	Unshackled

 

_“Thanks for the meat suit.”_

Words Sam hoped he would never have to hear again rang in his ears, as he stared at the man in front of him. The angel wearing his brother’s face, the face that was, only moments ago, smiling in celebration. Dean did it. _They_ did it. The apocalypse they have started, the Devil they have let out eight years ago… He was dead. Finally. For real. No tricks, no sudden disappearances, no coming back now.

Sam thought it was over. When Lucifer took Jack, he panicked. He couldn’t lose the boy. So he lunged at them, managing to grab them and hitch a ride to god knows where. He was sure Lucifer planned on killing the boy. And Sam was ready to do whatever it took to save him. But instead…he stole Jack’s grace, and left them with an impossible decision.

He couldn’t do it, though. He couldn’t kill Jack. Of course he couldn’t. But Sam, he has lived, seen so much…he was ready to die, if it meant saving the boy that was like a little brother… No. Like a son to him. A sweet, innocent child, who has only ever wanted to help. He was ready to die, by that pure boy’s hands… And he did feel like he was dying inside, when he saw Jack bury the blade into his own stomach, blood blossoming on his shirt at the same time as dark, heart-wrenching dread and sorrow grew in Sam’s chest.

After that, everything happened in the blink of an eye. Dean appearing, his wings igniting a whole other kind of sorrow in his little brother. The fight with Lucifer, their victory. Their laughs, disbelief and happiness filling the church. Their greatest victory in a while, killing the Devil himself. The Morningstar, bringer of unholy light that has once fried Sam’s insides so hot, searing his flesh and soul, destroying him from the inside out… The cause for his nightmares, the reason he went crazy. Sam was forever marked by those experiences, but Lucifer’s death lifted something heavy from his heart. Something that’s been there ever since he said _Yes_ to the devil, ever since he willingly let himself be violated, body and soul.

Lucifer was dead.

_“We had a deal!!”_

And then, so was Dean.

He did not die, literally. But Sam saw it. Saw the very moment, in Dean’s eyes and as his brother fought the archangel inside of him. He saw when Michael won, when the light, the fire in Dean’s eyes extinguished, replaced by something cold. A fire made of icy, blue flames, that sent chills down Sam’s spine as he gaped, unable to believe the sight that welcomed him.

Unable to believe that their victory was a defeat in disguise.

He took a step back, hand splayed over Jack’s chest as he took the boy with him. “Dean…” he whispered, hope still clinging to his voice even though he knew it was already far too late. Dean lost the battle. The man in front of him wasn’t Dean anymore.

Dean… No. Michael turned towards him, looking him over silently. Both of them. Before his enigmatic eyes stopped on Sam, gazing deep into his own despairing ones. “Sam,” he drawled with Dean’s voice. It was Dean’s voice.

But it wasn’t.

“Dean, no, no…” He shook his head, clenching his jaw as he swallowed harshly. “You can fight this. _Please,_ fight it,” Sam begged, to what the other let out an amused snort.

“Sam. Please. We both know that this is useless,” Michael said, shattering all of Sam’s remaining hope with a simple smirk. “Although, because I’m not all that bad, I am allowing your brother to listen in,” he said, surprising Sam. “Yes. He can hear you. And I can hear him… When I want to.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them with an exhale. “Ah. He says he’s sorry. And run. ‘Take Jack and leave’. How sweet, don’t you think? Still looking out for you, even after he… Well. You know.”

Sam was speechless. He wanted to listen to Dean, but he couldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t leave him, trapped inside an archangel. Sam knew far too well how that felt like.

“Sam…” Jack’s soft, worried voice brought him back to the here and now, as he felt a firm yet gentle hand on his arm. “We can’t fight him like this,” he said, and Sam was surprised to hear Jack, of all people, telling him to walk away from Michael. But all it took was one look at the boy, and he understood. It was killing Jack. He looked on the verge of furious tears, wanting nothing more than to stay and fight, to help… But he couldn’t. He was only human, now. They were both humans, and Jack remembered humans needed to plan before fighting. They couldn’t just rush into a fight. They couldn’t…waste time making others worry, by getting themselves in trouble.

This was the only thing he learned from his father, and both Jack and Sam knew Lucifer was right. Even in death, he was mocking them.

Sam took a hold of Jack’s wrist, his expression heartbroken, and nodded. He took one last look at Dean, vowing to save him, before turning around and gently hurrying Jack towards the door.

And then stopped.

Sam’s feet turned to stone, to solid plants rooted into the ground after only just a few steps. He looked down at his legs in horror, before exchanging concerned glances with Jack. They couldn’t move.

“I don’t recall telling either of you that you could leave,” came the chillingly arrogant, nonchalant voice from behind them. Slow footsteps approached, the moment stretched out by Sam’s apprehension, before Michael stood before them with a rather pompous half-smirk. “Sam… Jack. I am thinking I could use you.”

“We are not going to help you,” Jack hissed, the boy glaring hesitantly, but also intently.

“He’s right.” Sam reached in deep, searching until he found his strength and courage again. He was thrown off balance, but this was no time to falter. He couldn’t afford it. “This world isn’t perfect, but it’s my world. And we’re not going to let you ruin it, like you did with yours.”

Michael nodded slow, running his tongue over his lips thoughtfully. “Mmhm, I guessed that much,” he said, looking Jack up and down, before doing the same with Sam and smirking. “Ah. But…I’m not asking for your _help._ As I said, I will use you.” He tapped his temple. “You see, Dean here isn’t too pleased with the current situation. And thanks to Lucifer, who managed to mess up my…insides a little bit before finally dying, like a good little brother, I am not in the best fighting condition. I need to restore my energy. My Grace. But until then, I can’t use the mute button on our dear, talkative Dean.” He sighed. “Very talkative. So, you see my problem. I need to, um…” He furrowed his brow with an alarming smirk. “Knock him down a notch, if you get my way of speaking.”

Sam glared. “And what does that have to do with us?” he asked, even though he unfortunately had a rough idea what Michael had in mind. Usually, there was only one way to break Dean. Only one way, that involved Sam…

Michael took a step closer to Sam, whose heart skipped a beat as he felt Jack gripping his hand. Poor boy, probably worried out of his mind.

“I’m happy you asked,” Michael purred, studying Sam’s face before narrowing his eyes with a smirk on his pursed lips. “You see, I thought about killing you. Would be so easy, but I feel like with Dean, it would backfire. If he lost you, he wouldn’t have anything to live for anymore. Anything to fight for. I know. I have been in his head. And then he definitely wouldn’t shut up.” He trailed off, looking at the stained-glass windows. “Then, I also thought about torture. Ah, yes. Good old torture. I am quite good at it, you see. Great, in fact. But…” Michael looked back at Sam, and something was wrong. His eyes have gone dark, evil. His voice deep and sinister as he continued. “But while I was torturing humans, after a while, I had to get creative. Blood and pain wasn’t enough anymore. Humans… So interesting. So easy to mess with, thanks to all those emotions. And that’s when I realized. Humans punish those who hurt and kill. But do you know what they hate even more?” He leaned in. _“Rape,”_ he whispered with a hiss.

Blood ran cold in Sam’s veins, and Jack looked between them in confusion. Too young to understand the weight that one word carried. The taboo, the consequences. The disgust.

Sam looked horrified, and Michael seemed to bask in the hunter’s reaction. “Yes. That face! No amount of threats of torture will produce an expression quite like that,” he said with an amused, low chuckle. “You have no idea what humans will do to save the ones they care about from rape. Torture works, too. Oh, it does. But tearing the clothes off someone, while making the other watch as you let angels abuse and defile the one they love? Making them listen to the screams and cries, the painful moans as they are raped over, and over again… It’s incredible.” He was grinning, now. “And you barely even have to hurt them! It’s pleasurable. Just touch them a little, breach those private places, and they all break.” Michael laughed, rubbing his temple. “See? I was right. I have never heard your brother scream so loud in my head before.”

He was wrong. Sam had no idea the man would suggest something so ludicrous. He didn’t want to believe it. He refused to believe it. But this was happening, and the faster he wrapped his mind around it, the more time he had to come up with a plan to get out of this situation.

“You can’t…do that,” he said, incredulously, because he was still shaken. “That’s… It won’t work,” he found himself insisting, nose flaring in exasperation. “Dean will only hate you more if you do something like that. He won’t stop fighting you, every hour of every day. He’ll wear you down, Michael. So you might as well give up now, and go back to your own world. The world that _you_ created.”

Michael seemed to be thinking about it for a moment, but then shook his head. “Hmm, no. Dean won’t disobey after I’m done with you,” he said, with far too much confidence for Sam’s liking. “Because if he does… I will come and find you. I fill break you, rape you. Over, and over. Every time he tries to revolt, you will be his punishment. Watching you get raped, and knowing that every time, it’s his fault. That every time…” Michael gazed into his eyes, raising a hand to cup and caress Sam’s cheek. “It’s _him_ fucking his precious little brother.”

Before Sam could react, he was suddenly thrown across the room, slamming with a loud grunt against the dirty white stone altar, before landing on his ass.

“Sam!!” Jack shouted in fear, the power holding him back apparently lifting as he ran towards Sam—

But only got so far, before he was hurled against the wall to Sam’s left, the boy groaning in pain as he tried to stand up, but the invisible force was back, pinning him where he sat.

“Don’t you dare hurt Sam!” Jack continued desperately as Michael walked past him and closed in on the hunter. “I will kill you! I swear, I’ll—” He choked, eyes wide as he opened and closed his mouth in shock and confusion, before looking at Sam in panic.

“What the hell did you do?!” Sam demanded, scowling and about to stand up; but Michael closed the distance between them in a split second, an iron clasp-like hand wrapping around his throat and lifting him up, off his feet, like it was nothing.

“Don’t worry about him. I only stole his voice for a little bit. Wouldn’t want any distractions while we are having our little…fun, do we?” he sneered, before slamming Sam down on the altar, the man pretty sure his entire back was going to be bruised after this.

But bruises were the least of his concern right now, especially with Michael yanking on his pants with his free hand.

“Relax,” he purred, using the same power he used on Jack to pin Sam to the altar, both hands getting rid of the terrified man’s pants much faster. “It’s not like this is your first experience with an archangel.” Sam tensed up, memories of Hell assaulting his mind, the expression on his face making Michael laugh. “Yes. I can see it, deep inside you. Oh, Sam. The things my late little brother has done to you.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “He was not raised that way, let me tell you that. All that time in the cage must have messed with his mind, because I really don’t know where he got all those…ideas from. I mean…all those positions, all those objects. The things he has _done_ to you. No wonder it left such a rotten darkness within you.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to be reminded of that. Of all those years he spent locked up with Lucifer, as the Devil’s plaything. How he got violated and tortured, burned to smoldering ashes from the inside out. Lucifer intruding his body and laughing at his screams. Teasing, taunting. Mocking. Like a child playing with its toy until it was broken, and no matter how many times he got it fixed, he would break it again. Each and every time.

That was Sam’s Hell. His nightmare he had to carry with himself every day, what he had to hide from every night. And he really didn’t need Michael bringing it to the surface, exposing all that black sludge inside his heart.

“Shut up,” Sam hissed through gritted teeth, kicking at the man until his legs were pinned down by that damned invisible force; and he was so distracted, trapped in his foul memories, he only just noticed that Michael has managed to strip him completely naked from the waist down.

The archangel chuckled, running his hands up the suddenly horrified hunter’s thighs. “Now, Sammy,” he purred, smirking when Sam frowned at the nickname reserved for his brother. “Don’t be like that, or I might get jealous. Letting Luci have you, but not me?”

“I didn’t let—” Sam bit down on his words, snarling at the other. “You have no idea about the kind of mistake you’re about to make,” he hissed warningly. “If you do this…there is no coming back, Michael.” He shook his head, a humorless smile crossing his face. “We have some of the most powerful allies here in this world. Your fate will be sealed, and you’ll die a painful death if you lay a finger on me,” he threatened, not one to really make threats, but this situation… He needed to get the upper hand, somehow. Or else he really was, seriously screwed. And being raped in Hell was bad…but here, with Jack watching and Dean…doing the deed?

Sam honestly wasn’t sure if he was going to survive _that._

“Oh sweetheart.” Michael’s voice was a deep rumble as he spread Sam’s knees, the other shuddering with a gasp when he felt a finger trailing up his limp cock. “I know exactly what to expect. Big brother in my head, remember?” He smirked devilishly. “Speaking of which… I don’t know if I mentioned, but Dean here can also see everything. And feel…every single touch.” His smirk grew predatory. “So I suppose this will be quite a torture for both of you. In so many ways.”

Sam trembled on the altar, his instincts to fight or flee mingling together into a new, powerful emotion fueled by outrage and panic. “You can’t,” he snapped, shaking his head and baring teeth. “You can’t do this!” He gazed deep into _Dean’s_ eyes. “Dean, please!! I know you’re in there, I know you can hear me. Fight this son of a bitch! Don’t let him…” He gulped. “Fight it, Dean!”

Michael frowned, looking to the side with a growl and closing his eyes, and Sam had hope… But then the archangel looked back and glared at him. “How sweet. Big brother is real furious with me now. Too bad he’s still just… _Just_ not strong enough,” he sneered, before undoing his belt and unzipping his pants.

Sam watched in complete horror, eyes wide, as Michael tugged his pants down and held his cock in a hand. Dean’s cock. God, this felt so wrong. Sam felt sick and like there was something, a creature twisting inside his chest, curling and messing around with his insides. He couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across his face as Michael stroked his cock, as the flesh hardened in his hand, because even if this wasn’t his brother… It _was_ his brother. It was Dean’s face, Dean’s hand. Dean’s lips parting, Dean’s low groan of pleasure. Dean’s thick cock Sam hasn’t seen ever since they have stopped using motels. It was still all Dean…and it made Sam feel all sorts of ways, none of which he liked.

Many of which he was incredibly ashamed of.

“This is the only reason why I like humans,” Michael sighed, squeezing his cock with a smirk. “You can experience pleasure beyond your wildest imagination. I honestly cannot blame you lot for indulging in lust now and then. Father was a fool for making something like that a sin.” He stepped closer, rubbing the head of his cock against Sam’s hole, and drawing a tormented grunt from the man as he struggled against the force holding him down.

“You’re despicable!” Sam spat, starting to freak out now, and there was something seriously wrong with how he couldn’t even struggle or fight back. Just lying there, unable to move…made him feel even more hopeless. “A rapist archangel?? Is this really what you have become, Michael?! You couldn’t have stooped any lower!” he yelled, chest heaving from how worked up he was getting. How petrified.

Michael was unfazed. “If this is supposed to be your attempt at making me rethink my decision, well. You’re failing,” he said, before pressing his cock against the hole, smiling as Sam held his breath, frozen in dread. “But don’t worry. Another thing I have learned while observing humans? They take it much, much worse if the one they care for feels pleasure during rape.” He leaned closer. “So I’ll make sure to use my Grace and ease all the pain away.” And then forced his cock inside Sam.

“Hnngh– No!!” he cried out, gasping and staring at the ceiling in dismay as his body locked up. He could feel it. He could feel ever inch entering him, and there were a lot of inches. Dean’s cock… Oh, god. His brother’s cock was so big, so thick, and Sam couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes welled up with tears, even as he tried holding them back, reminding himself that Dean was watching. But remembering that only made everything so much worse, because _Dean was watching._ He could feel and see everything. Feel his cock inside Sam. See him spread out in front of him, see him suffering.

He wanted to laugh. Michael was right. Rape was so much worse than simple torture, for everyone involved.

“Incredible,” Michael groaned as he finally bottomed out, holding Sam’s hips and biting down on his lip in pleasure. “This is just incredible. You’re so warm, so tight. One might even think you’ve never had a dick up your ass before.” He laughed at the look on Sam’s face. “And let me tell you, Dean is enjoying this, too.” He rolled his eyes. “Sure, he is still shouting at me, calling me names, the usual. But it’s _his_ cock, so hard inside his little brother’s hole.”

Sam grit his teeth, turning his head and trying to ignore the other’s words. “Dean,” he panted, swallowing hard, “it’s okay. It’s not you. I know it’s not you, so it– it’s alright. This is nothing, I can… I can take it.” He looked back at Dean furrowing his brow and looking tough for his brother. “It’s not your fault.”

“How touching,” Michael scoffed, glancing down at his cock inside the hunter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some torturing to do.” He raised his eyebrows with a complacent smirk, before beginning to move his hips.

Sam clenched his jaw so hard he was afraid he would crush his teeth if he continued, but he had to. He had to stifle the sounds that threatened to leave him, because… Michael didn’t lie. There was no pain. Sam wasn’t sure how, but it felt like the archangel’s grace served as some kind of thin shimmer-like lube, something smooth, both hot and cold, caressing Sam’s insides and preventing any kind of pain. It felt alien, and along with Dean’s cock sliding in and out of him, it left him gasping and arching, pleasure he did not ask for slowly filling him from the tip of his toes to his fingers. It was nothing like his…previous experience. The disgust and fear was still there. It was still rape. But without the pain, with only the emotional, but not physical agony, there was nothing left but pleasure. Electricity, tiny sparks going off in his crotch, and as Michael sped up, ramming his ass, it wasn’t long before Sam, too, was hard as a rock and leaking precome on his stomach.

And while it might have felt good, he did not want any of it.

“Stop! Oh god, fuck, fuck!” he moaned, throwing his head back as he was fucked hard, his cock twitching and begging to be touched, and Sam wanted to cry. He was crying, he realized, as tears finally spilled from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “No, no please!” And there went his tough façade. Even though he promised Dean that he could take it, that it was alright… This was more than Sam could handle. Every thrust broke him just a little bit more, until he was screaming and groaning, turning his head from side to side and clawing at the altar until his nails ached.

He shivered at the sound of Dean’s perverse, deep laugh. Michael’s laugh. “This is amazing,” he said with another laugh, gripping Sam’s hips even harder. “You’re amazing. Dean is begging me to stop now, finally stopping with those ridiculous threats to kill me. But it’s… Mmm. It’s not enough.” He licked his lips, and leaned in closer, until his face was only a breath away. “I think it’s time for a nice family reunion. What do you say?”

Sam blinked, choking on his breath as he gave Michael confused, teary eyes… And then it happened, right before him. Michael winked, pulling back, before closing his eyes. The next time he opened them, he looked so devastated and shell-shocked, it was clear to Sam that the one he was looking at wasn’t the archangel anymore.

“D-Dean…?” Sam gazed at the other hopefully, but that didn’t last long, once he realized the situation they were in. He blushed fiercely, averting his gaze and shaking. “Dean, I’m…”

“Shit, Sammy.” The anger and guilt in Dean’s voice made him look back, and he felt like crying all over again. “I’m so sorry.” Dean shook his head, then looked down at their joined bodies and closed his eyes. “I swear. I _swear_ I’ll rip this fucker to shreds, I swear I will make him pay for this,” Dean snarled, his voice shaking.

“Shut up, Dean.” He sniffled, trying to convey his forgiveness through his eyes as he reached for Dean’s hand. It took him a second to realize he could actually move his arms, but his hopes died again, noticing that was all he could move. Still, it was something, and he wanted to make the most of it. So he squeezed Dean’s hand and scowled at him. “Don’t you dare put this on yourself. Don’t you _dare,_ you hear me?” He laughed ruefully. “None of this crap is your fault, so… Don’t worry about me. Just fight it. Fight him. And don’t let this break you. I can take it– Ah!” Sam’s eyes widened, a surprised moan escaping him as Dean suddenly slammed his cock into him, then rolled his hips, and began fucking him again.

He wasn’t the only one in shock, though. “That son of a— Fuck!” Dean groaned, panic and terror written all over his face as his hands stroked Sam’s body. “This isn’t me!” He looked at Sam pleadingly. “Shit, Sammy– I’m not– Fuck…” He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and trying so hard, so visibly hard to hold back his voice, this being way too scarring and mortifying for both of them. “I can’t control it, Sammy, I’m s-so fucking sorry,” he managed to say in the end, sounding like he, too, was just about a second away from crying.

“It’s o-okay. It’s okay,” Sam reassured, but then something burst into flames within him and he screamed, cock twitching and pulsing hard.

“Sam?! Sam what’s going on? Does it hurt??” Dean asked in worry, everything seeming so twisted, because he looked like he just wanted to hug Sam, but his body was fucking him roughly.

Sam’s breathing was nothing more than little gasps now, and new tears formed in his eyes. Tears of indescribable shame. “N-No it’s fine, I’m just… Y-You hit…” He whined, letting out a wounded sob. “Dean…!”

Dean needed a moment to figure out what happened, and when he did, he couldn’t look at Sam. “Dammit,” he hissed, groaning, and then did so louder as he snapped his hips hard, upping the speed and intensity. Really fucking Sam, brutally and with no mercy, and that was it.

Sam couldn’t take it anymore.

He cried out, moaning wantonly, keening with a high-pitched voice as each thrust hit that sweet spot, nailing his prostate with a vengeance. This was so, so wrong. He knew it was. But the pleasure was so overwhelming, so mind-numbing…that he just let go.

“Fuck, Dean, fuck!” he screamed, sobbing and mewling. “There, god please, please don’t stop, oh god!” He arched his back, writhing in ecstasy, shaking from the pleasure that was tearing him apart from the inside out. Dean screwed him like it was the end of the world, cursing and growling as he spread Sam’s legs even wider. He thrust his hips hard and rough, almost throwing Sam off the altar from how ruthless he was, but the hands roaming and groping his body held him in place.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam,” Dean groaned, panting, his hair sticking to his forehead in a sweaty mess as he impaled his little brother on his thick, hard cock. He ripped at Sam’s remaining clothes, yanking them off him before leaning in and just attacking his skin, sending his brother on a whole new high.

“Dean, Dean!!” Sam wrapped his legs around the other’s waist, rocking from each punishing thrust, and clenching around the cock claiming his ass. “Please pleasepleaseplease more, I can’t, I need– Please!” he babbled, begging and crying and leaving red lines all over Dean’s back as he clawed at him, shivering and almost fucking coming from the vicious growl leaving his brother.

“Fuck, yes, Sammy. Needy little boy,” he groaned, crushing his lips against Sam’s in a searing hot kiss. All tongue and teeth, wet and sloppy and _hungry,_ before Dean pulled back to bite and kiss all over the other’s neck, Sam baring the skin and whimpering.

Dean’s tongue was like fire against his flesh, and Sam couldn’t get enough of it. He was dying. Everything felt so overwhelming, his body drowning in pleasure, and his mind going blank, and it was just. So. Much. He buried his hand in Dean’s hair, tugging and whining as he was licked all over; his throat got licked, bite marks scattered all across his chest, his nipples sucked on until Sam was right back to sobbing and rubbing against his brother as if in heat.

They were kissing, and then not, and then kissing again. Sam couldn’t keep up. He was acting purely upon instincts now, unable to think anymore. Only moaning. He licked into Dean’s mouth greedily, wrapping his arms and legs around him and hanging on to dear life as his brother fucked the ever-living hell out of him. He tried to reciprocate as much as he could, sucking on Dean’s neck and leaving his fair share of marks, too. He met the other’s thrusts halfway, fucking back against his brother’s amazing cock, clenching around him, milking him, and loving every single groan and hiss and growl he received in return.

And when Dean took a hold of his cock and started jerking him off, it was all over.

“That’s it, come for me baby,” Dean breathed, and Sam did, on command. His entire body shook, a loud whine-moan ripped from his throat as his orgasm slammed into him violently, making him come all over his chest and Dean’s hand. “Fuck, that’s hot,” Dean growled, squeezing Sam’s cock, and as his thrust grew erratic, he came as well. Biting down on his brother’s shoulder like an animal, Dean came hard, filling Sam with so much warm, thick come, it started leaking from the younger hunter’s ass—and that feeling of being filled, of being bitten, of being able to make Dean come so good, along with that gravely groan leaving Dean right as he came, had Sam experiencing a second orgasm so powerful he blacked out.

When he finally came to, Dean’s cock was gone from his ass, and while at least that wasn’t hurting, he was aching all over.

He looked around as he sat up with a hiss, needing a moment before realization dawned on him. He could move. Not only that, Dean could move. And they… Just now, they had…

“Dean…?” His voice was barely a whisper, but it got his brother’s attention nonetheless. Dean had his pants up, and quickly buckled his belt as he hesitantly moved over to Sam. Looking like he was afraid Sam might fall apart if he touched him or got any closer.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, only managing to meet his eyes when he glanced up at Sam from where he was staring at the other’s knees.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair, and pursed his lips. He furrowed his brow, thinking carefully about what he was going to say next, before nodding. “Yeah. I’m okay, but… Dean.” He paused, and stared at his brother until he finally looked back at him. “What we did… Michael wasn’t controlling you anymore, was he?”

And judging from the look on Dean’s face, Sam was right.

“Sammy, I—”

“Dean.” He took a hold of his big brother’s hand and squeezed, hard. “I know. But I could move, too. It’s not your fault, we both…” Sam chewed on his lips, before offering Dean a little smile. “Hey. At least this means I didn’t get raped, after all.”

Dean blinked, before rolling his eyes with a rueful laugh. “Yeah. I guess there’s that,” he said, suddenly turning serious as he lowered his gaze. “…But, I think it’s best if we pretend this never happened.”

Sam expected that. He did not expect the pain in his chest. “Dean…”

“No talking about it, no bringing it up ever again, okay?” Dean frowned. “We just… It was the heat of the moment, and…”

“Was it?” Sam blurted, immediately regretting saying that when he saw the look on Dean’s face. The sadness, the shame. The longing. The heartbreak that always followed when he buried shit like this deep, deep down. Sam recognized all of those emotions, because he would have felt the exact same way…if not for Michael.

“We don’t have time for this—”

“Exactly, Dean. We don’t,” Sam said sternly, getting off the altar but holding onto it, legs too weak to fully support him. “Not witch Michael hitching a ride in your body. I don’t…want to do this all over again. Whenever something happens, we just…ignore it. Not this time. This is too big, Dean. Please don’t…” He blinked back tears and gave his brother a pleading, vulnerable look. “Please don’t pretend this never happened.”

Dean faltered. He closed his eyes, shook his head. Was about to disagree, Sam could see it in his eyes. But then seemed to give up, letting out a defeated sigh as he stepped even closer to Sam. “Okay. Okay… I…” He blinked, frowning. And then Sam was slapped with the hand of harsh reality, as Dean’s eyes widened and he grabbed his head, yelling, “No! Not now, you bastard!” And that was it.

Dean was gone.

Again.

“Well,” Michael said, clearing his throat and looking Sam over with a smirk. Dean’s smirk. Dean’s voice. Again… Lost. “This did not really go according to plan, I must admit.”

“According to plan?” Sam was so tired of the archangel’s bullshit. He clenched his fists, wishing he wouldn’t be wearing Dean’s face so he could punch him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean??”

Michael shrugged. “You know. Raping you. I mean, it started out fine. There was suffering. But then I realized how much you were both enjoying yourselves, so… I decided to sit back and relax.” He chuckled, pleased with himself. “You two had no idea you were in control. Just kept going at it, devouring each other. I honestly didn’t see that coming… And here I was hoping I had the perfect solution. The perfect way of keeping you two on a leash.” He made a disappointed sound. “But rape won’t do it anymore. Don’t worry, though. I’m sure I’ll think of something else, soon,” he purred, and spread his wings.

“Wait!” Sam reached out, but they were gone. Dean, Michael. Gone.

But not for good. They were going to find Dean. Sam was going to find Dean, and save him. Kill Michael, and take Dean and Cas, and Jack to that beach his brother was daydreaming about. Together, like a family…

Retirement didn’t sound too bad, after all.

“Sam!”

He jumped, turning around and suddenly feeling bad for forgetting that poor Jack was still here.

“Hey.” Sam grabbed the boy’s arms, quickly checking if he was alright. “Are you okay? How’s the wound in your stomach? Come on, we need to get you treated right away,” he said urgently, hurriedly putting his clothes on and taking Jack out of the church, and hoping the boy wouldn’t bring up what…he most definitely heard and saw. God. He really hoped he didn’t traumatize the boy for life.

“I’m…fine.” Jack frowned, following Sam outside and looking up at him with confusion. With concern. “But, um. What was that? It sounded like you and Dean were in terrible pain? I don’t think I understand….”

Sam blushed, forcing a smile as he patted Jack’s shoulder.

“I’ll explain everything on the way back.”

 


End file.
